Lamia Joreige’s Je d’histoires, 2006–2007, is a small, room-size installation that consists of an LCD screen, a control pad, a table, and an armchair. The viewer enters, sits down, and begins to play. (The title translates literally as “I of Histories,” but it toys with the similarity between the words je, “I,” and jeu, “play.”) The control pad offers a grid of options, and the viewer can choose from six videos, three texts, and five sound tracks to create a single work. There is a finite number of permutations, and part of the fun of the piece lies in figuring out all the possible combinations, like a child who cheats while reading a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book.

Joreige’s texts are eerily poetic, puzzling, and abstract. They allude, albeit enigmatically, to violence, pain, and rupture: TODAY WE UNDERSTAND . . . THE WAR WAS NOT OVER; THE WEATHER IS SO GORGEOUS HERE. . . . THE LIGHT,